Solidarity
by JuliansGIrl
Summary: IT was Syd and Sark, not Vaughn, who were going up in front of the firing squad in Korea


Solidarity  
  
Sydney sat in the dark, dank cell contemplating the events that had brought her there. Her and Vaughn were about to go and meet the contact, Lenin, when the spotted Sark approaching him. They did what any good agents would have done. They approached the table and threatened to cut off Sark's unmentionables. Vaughn told the group what the plan was to be. He and Lenin were to leave, Syd was to leave after they were clear, and Sark would be allowed to keep his privates in tact. But they should have realised that Sark was not good at following directions.  
  
After Vaughn and Lenin had walked casually away from the scene, Sark had turned to Sydney, trademark smirk on his face and said, "You may be content to play the sitting duck, Miss Bristow, but I am afraid I am not." With that he had whipped up the gun he was holding under the table, knocked the knife out of Syd's hand (thankfully cutting nothing off!) and fired off a shot at Sydney. Her reflexes were quick enough to throw her out of the line of fire, but the shot had alerted the officials to their presence. But Syd and Sark were to busy battling each other for their lives to notice. And that had led to their capture, and subsequently, their detainment in the cold, cement cell. *****  
  
Sydney examined the handcuffs circling her wrists. With all her spy training, there had to be a way to escape from the situation she found herself in. Being in North Korea, she knew that if she did not escape, she and Sark would be facing the firing line. That was a thought she did not relish. So she continued her attempts at escape. She noticed that Sark was just sitting, leaning up against the bricks, content to do nothing. *Egotistical bastard. I hope he realises that he is most likely going to die. The Koreans aren't going to accept his offers of allegiance.* Syd did admit to herself, however grudgingly, that Sark had to be given some sort of admiration. He wasn't a stupid man. He knew that he was most likely going to end up dead. And yet, he remained perfectly calm. Not an easy feat, Sydney realised. She, herself, was going crazy trying to find a way out of her current predicament.  
  
She never thought she would be spending the last of her time with Sark. She always imagined herself dying saving the world from nuclear disaster, or from old age, surrounded by her family. In her wildest dreams, she would never have seen herself standing in front of a Korean firing squad with Sark by her side. *It's all his stupid fault,* she thought. *If he could have just stuck to the plan, we would have all made it out alive.* Syd found herself thinking of her family, and friends, sending out silent goodbyes to them all. What would she have said to them if she could speak to them one last time? Some were easy to say goodbye to, some more difficult.  
  
Dixon. She would tell him that she always knew she could rely on him to watch her back, whether at work or after. She was so proud that he made it to the Director's position. He was one of her oldest friends, and she loved him dearly.  
  
Marshall. She loved the way that he was so excitable over technology. His nervousness made him cute, and she still couldn't quite believe that he and Carrie were going to have a baby.  
  
Weiss. He always knew just what to do, or say, to bring a smile to her face. She could ask anything of him, and he would do it, no questions asked. It was rare to have such a friend.  
  
Will. Or should it be Jonah now? Anyway, she loved him with all her heart. He had been the one normal thing in her freaky world, and she did not think she would have survived the pressure, if not for him. She guessed she should group Francie with Will, even though she was dead. She wanted to apologise for messing up her friends' lives, wanted to be able to give them back their sense of normalcy. But she couldn't, so instead she sent out her silent love for them.  
  
Her dad. She had only just gotten back into some semblance of a normal father/daughter relationship with him. She wanted to be able to curl up in his lap one last time and tell him just how much she loved him. She wanted to be able to hug him fiercely, and tell him she'll always be his little girl, his princess.  
  
Lastly, Vaughn. She wanted to be able to tell him that he was, and always would be, the only man she ever loved. But he had escaped before the officials had gathered. She was grateful that he wasn't here with her. She was pained to know that he had to spend the rest of his life with Lauren, and she knew how much he would hurt, knowing he had just lost her again. But they both knew the price they paid on the job. She only hoped that he would remember her for the times they had together, the love and life that they had shared.  
  
Sydney looked over at the peaceful form of Sark. He has his eyes closed, in the appearance of sleep. She contemplated the situation she was now in.  
  
*This is nothing like how I wanted it to end.* *****  
  
Sark looked over at where Syd was. He saw her racking her brains, trying to come up with a way to escape the looming inevitability of death. He, himself, was content to just sit quietly in his part of the cell and watch her work. He was in admiration of Sydney's abilities as a spy. She was so intelligent and able, far more than any other he had met. He found himself measuring her abilities against his own, in that quiet time in the cell, and was somewhat shocked to find that she had measured up as his equal. Not many he knew could rival his intellects, or his physical abilities in the field, but Sydney Bristow was definitely one who could. *If I am to be really generous, I might even consider her my superior.* That brought the trademark smirk to his face.  
  
He knew that it would take nothing short of a miracle for them to survive this, and not being religious, he did not expect anything of the sort to happen. Instead, he sat quietly, contemplating the course his life had taken, leading him to this point.  
  
He thought of how he had come to have met Irina, Sloane, and even Sydney herself. He thought of all the actions he had made, and found himself not being ashamed of a single one. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He was proud of how his life had shaped out to be. He was proud of his self- confidence, his adaptability. He loved the adrenalin rush he gained on a mission. But he also thought of the people he had crossed in his life, and wondered what he would say to them, if he could see them one last time.  
  
Sloane. Well, he didn't really have anything nice he would like to say to him. He always considered Sloane to be a sadistic, self-centred little monkey. Sloane had loved to pull rank over him at every opportunity. He guessed that he would just smirk at Sloane instead.  
  
Irina. She had been the one to pull him into the life he now led, though for how much longer, he did not know. She had trained his mind, and his body, teaching him things he never would have even dreamt of in his life before. He was extremely thankful for the opportunities she had given to him. He did not think of her as a mother, but he held a certain fondness for her, not that he would ever admit it.  
  
And Allison. Two years ago, he would have been loath to say goodbye to her, thinking himself in love with her. In more recent times, however, he had started to realise that Allison was just using him to heighten her standing with the Covenant. He did not know how he would say his farewell to her. He guessed it would end up with him agreeing to meet up with her in Hell.  
  
Sark looked again at Sydney, from under half closed eyes. He contemplated his situation, facing the end with her.  
  
*This is exactly how I wanted it to end.* *****  
  
The guards came clanking up the tiny passageway to where the duo was being held. They unlocked the cell, and yanked the captives roughly to their feet. Squinting as they were pushed into harsh sunlight, Sydney and Sark were halted in front of a tall brick wall, covered with bullet holes and spatters of dried blood. Sydney looked out at the impassive faces of the guards lined up before them and tears started to well in her eyes. She was afraid, there was no denying it. She knew this was it, this was the end, and there were no loved faces there to lend her comfort in the final minutes.  
  
Sark looked at the guards and wondered what he would be feeling, was he in their positions. Suddenly he realised, it didn't matter what he was would have felt, was he in their position. He was not the one behind the gun. He was the one in front of it. He was going to die, and he was not even going to be given the privilege of fighting for his life.  
  
Sydney felt a warm hand slip into her own. She looked out through her fear, and saw Sark's face looking back at hers with an expression of quiet sorrow. A lone tear broke from the dam in her eyes and made the heartrending path down her cheek. Sark grasped her hand a tiny bit tighter.  
  
"I'm glad it ends with you." *****  
  
Vaughn: "Let's make this easy for each other. Lenin and I  
are going to walk calmly out of here. Sydney is going to keep  
the knife exactly where it is until we are clear. Once we are,  
she will follow us. If you stick to that plan, you might still  
have children one day."  
  
Sark: "Except the execution of your threat would tip off your  
friends over there. It seems everyone has something to lose."  
  
Lenin: Everyone except for me. Goodbye."  
  
3.12 - ***** 


End file.
